Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 93 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

c Pa Pe =, « feller treats me kind, I'll do de same wid him— gib you my word ob honor.” ; They seemed disposed to grant his desire, but before doing so, began a search to assure them- selves that he had not any weapons of offense about him. Jim sat motionless, except when he assisted them as much as possible, never once thinking of the gold until he heard the two ogee jingle together in his pocket. Instantly e started up in terror. ‘*T hain’t got noffin dere—dat am sartin’—no use ob feelin’ dat pocket.” But a coppery hand was alread inserted, and the next instant it drew out the two yellow ieces, : pe Dem ain’t mine,” added Jim, and then, un- willing to tell an untruth, he added, “ dey ain’t sartin—'cause I’ve got to divide wid de rest.” They were passed back and forth, the Indians seeming to care very little about them. When they reached the hands of the hand-shaking Mo- have, he turned them over several times, and then replaced them in the pocket of the rightful owner. ‘*Gracious! but you’re a good feller,” ex- claimed Jim; “‘if it wa’n’t for de boys, I b’lebe I'd settle down among you, an’ take you for my bruvver chief; if you’li only let my arms loose you needn’t be afeerd dat rill swing ’em around careless.” The obliging Mohaves, at this point removed the lassoes from his limbs and left his body en- tirely unrestrained—a proceeding like the for- me the SF yen of the ma imity showed the udian, when he expec no mercy. ““T gin to t’ink George is ri nb, annsed Jim; ‘‘he always told me to be kind to ebery one, no matter if he was yourenemy. If I had come de gold trick ober dis feller, he wouldn’t have been half so cleber. Gracious! he wouldn’t have been, at all!” . ‘The prisoner was now almost entirely at ease, and had ae. over all fear of his own personal safety. He argued that they would not be so lenient and considerate if they intended any ultimate harm, and he endeavored to content himself as well as he could until the morrow, which he hoped would see him set at liberty. As the night wore on, none of the party seemed to be sensible of its somniferous tenden- cy. The Mohaves remained wide awake, and im’ had had too many things in his mind to . The former kept consulting to- gether, and finally, when it was quite late, they all arose, and with the prisoner between them, started off. A half-hour later, they came upon the party which held Edwin Inwood. CHAPTER XITI. THE GOLDEN RULE. It was a painful surprise both to Edwin In- wood and Jim Tubbs when they met each other in captivity. They conversed together, and ac- quainted themselves with their mutual history, after their separation during the day. ‘‘ Poor George will be anxious enough about us,” said the boy. ‘‘I feel worse on his account than I do on my own,” ‘‘ What’s de matter wid him?” asked the ne- 0, not exactly comprehending the force of his remark. ‘¢‘ Nothing, so far as I know; but what will he think when he comes back and finds nothing of 9? “Mink we ain’t dere, I s’pose.” — “T don’t believe these WeeeN intend us any harm. They have treated us both so kindly that they will let us go to-morrow. ‘* Hope so.” ‘“‘T see among these who came with you, the same one that we had in the cave the other da 2? of Yes; me an’ him are great friends,” replied Jim, with an important air. ‘I kinder t’ink he always had a notion of me.” They chatted tdgether until toward morning, when, becoming sleepy, both lay down upon the ground, and slept until daylight. The Af- rican race is proverbial for its drowsy proclivi- ties, and it pray some hard shaking upon the part of Edwin before he could arouse his companion. But once awake, he was thorough- ly so, and he arose to his feet. The Mohaves had the camp-fire burning, and a number of birds, which resembled quails, cooking, while they had collected quite a quanti- ty of mesquite — , very numerous more south in California, and occasionally encounter- ed further north. These furnished an abundant and nourishing breakfast, much needed by our friends. Daylight brought another surprise, in the shape of a third prisoner—a large, stalwart- , gr >. The Boy Miners. looking man, dressed in the garb of an Indian— in fact, no other personage than he who had guarded the lake and the Enchanted Island so zealously. He was sullen and obstinate, and his hands had been tied behind him for the pur- pose of security. He scowled at his fellow- risoners as he was brought up, and undoubted- y hated them as thoroughly as he did his cap- tors. On the other hand, the Mohaves were partic- ularly vindictive toward the man, and, from his appearance, had been subjecting him to suf- fering and torture for their own amusement. Only two held him, and they must ey have secured him strategy, as he was al- most as muscular as Jim, and would have been an ugly customer in a hand-to-hand struggle. - They’ve got quite a lot of us,” he remarked, addressing Inwood. ‘¢VYas; dar am t’ree of us.” The stranger paid no heed to the negro, but spoke directly to Inwood. ‘‘[ s’pose you know what tribe these belong to?’ he continued. Edwin made answer that he did not. ‘** They are Mohaves—a villainous set of dogs. I consider ’em as bad as the Apaches, and you know they are as ugly as ugly can be.” ‘*'They have treated us kindly.” ** Yes,” replied the stranger with a contemp- tuous expression, “‘ you will find out. You re- member the Oatman family that were massa- cred, So boy and two girls, in ’49, in cross- the plains (i Yog: I saw the son in New York, and one of the sisters, with her chin all tatooed with In- dia ink, which they said the Indians did when they had her with them.” ‘*Do you know what tribe murdered them?” ‘*T heard, but I have forgotten.” ‘‘ Tt was these same Mohaves, and there ain’t amore villainous set of dogs this side of the Mississippi. You may make up your mind, as I have, that you’ll never see that sun go down again.” This was uttered coolly, but with such an air of conviction as to its truth, as to send a chill to the hearts of the hearers. ‘‘ Bress de Lord! you don’t mean dat?” asked Jim, fairly quaking with terror. The stranger turned toward him, and said: ‘¢ There’s no chance for you, for I never seen an Indian that didn’t hate a ger, and I’m with ’em there myself. If I couldsay the word, I wouldn’t get you out of this scrape, for you’ve no business in these parts.” | ‘* Bress your heart! nobody has axed you to say a word; I’d rather hab de ill-will ob such a miserable lookin’ darky as you dan your lub, an’ if you doesn’t like it, all ve got to say is, om Vm at your sarvice, an’ you can help your- self, The stranger glared at Jim like a wild beast, but as his own hands were tied, and those of the African’s were not, he was whable to help him- self, ‘*Oh, you needn’t look so lubbin’ at me!” said Jim, ‘‘I ain’t afeerd ob you; Ill try an’ coax ’em to ontie your hands, an’ den we'll hug each other, if you want to.” The stranger’s feelings were inexpressible, and his supreme contempt, he turned his back upon the negro, and addressed himself directly to Edwin. ‘*My name is Gaylor, and I’ve been out in these parts about a year, with a lot of others. We've had to dodge and fight the Indians all the time, and they know me well enough I reckon, and there ain’t any great amount of love atween us. Pve played some purty smart tricks upon em, but they got ahead of me at last. I was so tired last night that I lay down to sleep, and when I woke up, a couple of ’em had me fast, sure, and—well, you see I’m here with you.” Inwood gave the particulars of their own mis- fortune, and then inquired: ‘What have you been doing here?” Gaylor hesitated a moment, showed some confusion, but quickly rallying himself, replied: The same as yourself, I suppose; we have been looking for gold.” ‘You must have found something, or you would not have remained so long.” ‘Well, yes, we have had saleemiie luck—putty good I may say toward the last—but what good is it going to do me?” ‘‘Not much, I am afraid, nor us either; but you had a number of friends with you, will they not attempt your rescue!” Gaylor shook his head. ‘“‘No use of looking there; they’ll be sure I’ve been rubbed out, and won’t take the trouble to hunt me up.” ‘‘ How many are there?” 11 ‘‘Three, besides myself. a bey think enough of me, too, and, if they thought there was a chance, they would be here ina jiffy; but what’s the use? They even don’t know that I’ve been run off with, but likely enough imagine that I have gone off on a hunt, and they won’t look for me back under a week.’ All three prisoners were seated on the ground close together, the Mohaves allowing them o portunity to converse without molestation, al- though several scowled at Gaylor, as if unwill- ing to grant this small boon, ‘I see you are dressed asan Indian,” remark- ed Edwin, in an inquiring voice to Gaylor, who smiled for a moment, and did not reply. Final: ne he looked down at his leggings and stained S hi in, as if their appearance were a new thing to mm. ‘‘ Well, I don’t see as there is any harm in tell- ing you. This is the style of dress we have all adopted. You see we've got particular reasons for not wishing any white men to know we are here, and it was my plan to get ourselves up in this rig, so that if anybody should see us, they would think they was looking at Mohave Indians.” Edwin forbore to ask the reason for all thi for it was impertinent, but he concluded tha Gaylor and his three companions were cr fleeing from justice. “T shouldn’t t?ink such a rapscallion as * hits would want folks to know dat you was whi don’t blame you fur paintin’ ob yourself,” re- marked Jim Tubbs, ha was an attentive lis- tener to the conversation. ‘See here,” said Gaylor, fairly white with passion, ‘I’ve had enough of you! Id like to eee to see these does burn you. J hate ou ‘* All right,” replied Jim, and was about utter- ing some more bandinage, when Edwin re- quested him to keep still. Before the conversation could be resumed, the Mohave who was brought so prominently into notice at the beginning of our narrative, walked up to Jim and Edwin and motioned to them to stand up. They did so, the boy still holding his . He then led them about a rod away, halted, pointed to the northward, placed his left hand on the back of Edwin, and gave Fe a gentle shove, and then did the same with im. ‘Golly, dat means trabbel, an’ here’s de gem- man what’s goin’ to frow himself out all kinder loose like!” exclaimed the delighted African, as he straightway began what may be termed ‘ tall va ‘‘ Hallo!” he exclaimed, abruptly halting af- ter a few steps, ‘‘I forgot to tank you. Much obliged. Good-by.” Edwin expressed his thanks as well as he re pala pantomime and hurried after his sable rien The Golden Rule! Golden, indeed, and the true measure by which to mark our steps to Heaven. Here were two lives saved by the one ‘little deed of kindness.” They walked ng Oey some distance, and then Edwin placed his upon the colossal shoul- der of the negro, ‘“Well, what is it?’ demanded Jim, looking down in ted oon face. ‘‘T'm afraid they are going to kill Gaylor.” ‘“‘T hope so—” ** Oh, yim, don’t talk that way.” ‘‘T dunno as I hope so, but I don’t care; he’s an ugl darky, an’ orter have de gold trick come ober him.” Ween feel ri en in | in off and leaving im this way, and it isn’t right. “Well, what you goin’ do?’ asked the Afri- can, betraying some uneasiness. ‘We must go back, and try and get them to let him off.” “Dey won’t do dat.” : “ How do you know they won't?” “T don’t t'ink so.” “'Wecan try.” - “Tl wait i while you go.” The boy ran k, and in a few moments reached the camp. Gaylor was standing with his back toward him, and did not notice ap- roach. The Mohaves were all standing near im, and in their looks was - evil. They all turned inquiringly toward Edwin, who walk- ed rapidly up to the prisoner, then dropped on his knees, made a supplicating motion, and then placing his arm within his, started off. A halt ozen Indians sprung forward to prevent it. He dropped on his knees again, and with tears in his eyes besought his release, He could not be misunderstood, but his answer was scowls, and one who was quite angry drew his knife; but before he could do harm, our first acquaint- | -* (ECON AMUCE OOO KSsaCEle)